


the things I do for you

by shibboleth



Category: Thor (2011)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-14
Updated: 2011-05-14
Packaged: 2017-10-19 09:49:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/199541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shibboleth/pseuds/shibboleth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ficlet. Thor in a dress.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the things I do for you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [loki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/loki/gifts).



“Loki, are you—” Thor starts, and stops, then he starts fidgeting with the lace edging of his white blouse. “Are you _sure_ this is the only way to retrieve Mjolnir?”

“No, it isn’t the only way,” Loki admits, stepping back and crossing his arms, admiring his handiwork. “It _is_ , however, the only way to get it back that doesn’t involve you rushing cocksure into Thrym’s palace and getting yourself killed.”

“I can handle Thrym _and_ his men, with or without the power of—”

“Who was it that let him get your hammer in the first place?” Loki wonders. “While you were sleeping, was it? I’m afraid I don’t quite understand how this happened, exactly…” Which is a lie, as Loki was certainly present when he presented Mjolnir to Thrym personally. It’s all in good fun; Thor will have his weapon back by supper and Loki will have the memories of his brother in a wedding dress for the rest of his life.

Thor reddens and falls silent, scowling at the floor and muttering to himself.

“I thought so,” Loki says, grinning, and he holds out the long, glimmering (and quite opaque) veil he conjured up for just this occasion. “You’ll need this, if you don’t want Thrym to realize his bride isn’t half as beautiful as the rumors claim.”

Thor snatches the veil out of Loki’s hands. “Sometimes, Brother,” he grumbles, “I think you enjoy my suffering far too much.” He pulls the veil up over his head—completely incorrectly, of course, and the whole thing hangs crocked, draping over his shoulder and only across half his face.

“You think this is _fun_ for me? I’m wounded.”

“You _will_ be if you don’t wipe that smirk off your face.”

Loki doesn’t, though he does take pity, and he steps forward to help adjust the veil.

“The things I do for you,” he says.


End file.
